Broken but beautiful
by her ocean eyes
Summary: College Halloween AU. When Emma's drunk at a Halloween party suddenly all of her walls are coming down around one person - Killian Jones. One-shot. Captain Swan.


_Disclaimer: None of this is mine, not the characters, not the storyline. When it would be Meghan would be on-screen like forever and __Emma and Killian would already be canon__ oh, right, Adam, Eddie, you did a great job._

_**A/N: Since today is Halloween I decided to write a Captain Swan Halloween story. But - as always - the story ran away with me and what you**__** read now is the result :)**_

"Swan, you're dead drunk," he said, leaning down, reaching for the beer bottle in her hand.

The blond blinked up at him owlishly, her usually sharp, clear green eyes now unfocused, her pupils wide, her cheeks slightly reddened.

"That's my beer, get your own!" she exclaimed yanking her hand away from his grip. As she did so her anyway short skirt rode up even farther, revealing more of her creamy white skin and the tops of her white hold-ups. For a moment he had a serious problem to gather his thoughts and when he finally tore his eyes away from her newly bared skin he saw the wicked grin on her face.

"Like what you see?" the Swan girl asked, her free hand brushing the skirt up even further.

Killian swallowed hard before he focused his gaze back on her eyes. One of her eyebrows was lifted mockingly, her lips quirked in a small smile. For a moment Killian succeeded in taking in her beautiful face, her red lips, her curly blond hair, the slightly tilted nurse cap on top of her head - then she moved again and his gaze found her large cleavage on its own accord. He could see the top of her breast perfectly and suddenly his mouth went dry and he had a hard time to swallow at all.

"Perhaps," he finally said, his voice hoarse.

"Well, I like you outfit too, you look good as a pirate. Now you're finally the scumbag I always knew you were."

Killian's eyebrows shot up as he looked down at her.

"Now you're just being mean."

She shrugged indifferently and lifted her beer bottle to her lips again. His left hand shot forward, the hand in which he gripped the false hook that was part of his costume and when the metal of his hook collided with the glass of the bottle she looked at him quite startled.

"Are you Captain Hook, Jones?" she asked, her words slightly slurred.

"You're not going to apologize?" he asked teasingly, his right hand joining his false hook in an attempt to take the bottle away from her.

But she had the bottle in a death grip and when he pulled she rose from her seat in the sitting area. She stood on wobbly legs, stumbling forward right into Killian's chest. He wriggled the beer bottle out of her hands and let it fall carelessly to the floor, his right hand gripping her waist to steady her. Surprisingly the bottle didn't shatter, the remaining contents of the beer spilling on the floor.

Neither of them noticed because there was nothing but them in the crowded room. His grip on her waist tightened the moment she shifted her weight, turning her body slightly towards his so her chest was pressed against his. Killian suppressed the urge to look down and take in her cleavage, much to Emma's surprise.

"You are allowed to look, you know," she said breathlessly.

"So you can tell me I truly am a ruthless pirate?" he quipped, breathless himself.

She smirked up at him from underneath her eyelashes.

"I would tell you you're a pervert."

They stare into each other's eyes for a few more heartbeats before he swallows hard again, trying really hard not to drop his gaze.

"You afraid you can't resist me if you look down?" she asked playfully.

Killian knew perfectly that booze changed people. Especially when they had too much. And Emma definitely had too much. Otherwise she would ignore him or yell at him and not flirt back shamelessly. She _never_ did that.

A year ago she had told him she hated him and he hadn't felt much differently about her. There had been a reason for his "hate". He had hated her because she had made him care again. When she showed up in his life it hadn't been only about himself anymore, it had been about others. He hadn't cared about others since... Since Milah. And that had been back when he was in high school. That was almost five years ago. He had spent another year back in Ireland before he had moved to the USA and started studying there. It had been the very first lecture Swan had walked into the room, five minutes too late and she had turned his world around again.

He blinked once, twice, then he was back in reality, lifting one eyebrow mockingly.

"Well, maybe I'm just afraid I will be disappointed by what I'm going to see," he replied.

"I can assure you-" She pressed herself flush against him, her breasts brushing over his chest and he couldn't help thinking about what it would feel like to rub his chest against hers without all theses stupid and needless layers of clothes between them. "- you won't. So just look down," she teased.

"You are wasted, love, you should probably get some air."

"I think I will do just that-" He almost let out a relieved sigh, but then she smirked up at him and the sigh stuck in his throat. "- if you follow me, _captain_."

"Swan..." he growled but she just took his hook in his hand and pulled him through the large crowd that filled the room.

It was Halloween, that was the reason why they were all dressed up, the reason why they drank so much - not that college students needed any excuse for drinking, most of the time they just _did_ - but this evening was particularly bad. And Emma Swan, beautiful, feisty Emma Swan was dead drunk while Killian Jones, the smug, cocky Irish bastard was almost sober.

They left the room and she stumbled out of the door, Killian right behind her, ready to catch her in case she tripped in her white fuck me heels that matched perfectly with her short slightly bitchy nurse costume, not that he was complaining.

She left the house with him on her heels, turning around the next corner. Then she started pacing.

He let himself sink against the wall, sliding down at it until he sat on the ground, watching her walking up and down the street at the side of the house concerned. Suddenly she stumbled but she caught herself, her hands pressing against the wall, her back arched, her head hanging between her arms which were supporting her. She almost looked as if she was trying to stand in right angle.

"Are you alright?" he asked the worry in his voice pretty obviously.

_Her head must be spinning._

Suddenly her head jerked in his direction and she looked him straight in the eye.

"No I'm not," she said steadily, suddenly not slurring anymore. "Honestly I haven't been in a pretty long time. And do you want to know why?"

He nodded slowly and she let herself slide down the wall until she sat close next to him.

"Because I can't move on," she stated. "It doesn't matter how badly I want to, I can't. Because he just ran off without saying goodbye. He didn't even bother to break up with me. _No_, of course not, he had to blame me for_ his crimes_!

You know, I really loved him. I thought we had a future together, that he could be my "ever after" but you know what? Fairytales are full of _shit_. As if Prince Charming would just show up at my doorframe and take me away.

He left me, broke my heart and didn't even give me a chance to move on!"

She let her head fall against his chest and it wasn't until he felt her shaking in his arms that he realized she was crying. Beautiful, strong Emma Swan was crying in his arms. Walls-as-high-as-the-Rocky-Mountains Swan had opened up to him, had let him in. He didn't intend to but he couldn't really stop himself either, the words just bubbled out of him in an attempt to sooth her, to comfort her, _to pay her back._

"I fell in love with my teacher," he suddenly blurted out.

When he felt Emma's shaking and trembling and crying subside slightly he continued, not wanting to think about the reason why he opened up to her.

"I wooed her even though I knew she was married and surprisingly she fell for me too. We had an affair during my last months at school. She told me she wanted to run away because she didn't love her husband, she loved me and we decided to run after I graduated school. I waited a few blocks away from her house, she was late, but she showed up eventually. But the moment she got into the car her husband showed up, accusing her of leaving him, of leaving their _son_ - I didn't even know she had a son, I knew so little about her. Her husband had a gun and-" He stopped, swallowing the tears that threatened to fall down his cheeks.

Emma turned her head, so her face was buried in his shoulder, comforting him with this little physical contact, encouraging him to finish.

"He shot her and she died in my arms. I-I went to the police but it turned out her husband is a powerful politician and even though I pressed charges he got away. He even tried to blame me for her death but they didn't press charges. The police _knew_ I was right, they believed me, they wanted him in prison but they couldn't- They couldn't-"

Emma wrapped her right arm around him and held him tightly. He had never cried for her. Never grieved her properly, always keeping all the pain inside.

He wasn't even drunk but the moment the blond threatened her fingers through his hair he lost it. He started crying for the first time since forever. He buried his head in her still shaking shoulder. He realized she was still crying but she still tried to comfort _him_. His beautiful broken Swan with her heart of gold. They held onto each other, still crying for a long time. Killian was the first one to stop. After all, he was the man and he should be the one comforting her and not the other way around. And above all he certainly shouldn't cry. He hadn't drunken more than one or two beers, by far not enough to get him drunk but he still was a sobbing mess.

He held her for another few minutes, rubbing his hands over her back soothingly, his face now pressed into her hair, her nurse cap long forgotten on the floor.

She smelled like cinnamon and booze, sweet and strong at the same time. One of his hands found its way into her hair, tangling in her blond tresses.

He didn't tell her it was going to be alright.

He didn't know if it would be.

_He didn't want to lie to her._

Not after that he realized _why_ he cared about her.

They were the same, they both lost people, they both were broken.

And he didn't just _care_ for her.

He was-

"Jones..." she mumbled into his black shirt.

"Aye?" he whispered, leaning back so she could look up to him and meet his gaze.

"Take me to my room?"

He nodded and got up, holding his hand out for her. She took it and he pulled her up, but her legs were still wobbly, the effects of the alcohol still messing with her sense of balance so she stumbled against him again. But this time she wasn't all flirty, this time she was broken and she saw no need to hide behind her walls. She allowed him to see her for who she was. So he didn't even let her try to walk on her own, he just scooped her up in his arms, carrying her bridal style. She wrapped her arms around her neck, burying his head in his shoulder.

He walked her to her room and when they finally stood in front of her door he set her back on her feet. She had to lean heavily against him but when she tried to pull out her key, which she had buried inside her bra, she couldn't pull it out. Somehow she couldn't grab it.

"Killian..." she groaned looking up at him.

He raised an eyebrow at her, silently asking "what?".

"The key- it's inside my bra and I can't grab it," she drawled out, pointing at her right breast. "Would you?"

"Are you serious?" he asked immediately.

She nodded so quickly that she stumbled backwards, falling against him one more time. He sighed.

"Don't punch me," he said, then he slowly pulled down the zipper of her dress until it was opened right below her breasts.

She looked up at him expectantly, her green eyes shimmering and hooded. He took in a deep breath, then he lifted his hand to her breast. With a quickened heartbeat his hand found its way inside her bra cup, his fingers grazing the top of her breasts, then he pulled his hand back.

"Emma, I don't think this is-"

But she took his hand in hers and guided it back inside her bra cup.

"The key," she said, her voice nothing more but a whisper.

This time he dipped his hand lower, feeling her soft skin underneath his fingers.

"It should be at the outer edge of it," she mumbled, leaning into his embrace.

He bit his lower lip, sliding his hand to the outer edge of her bra, carefully feeling for her key. It wasn't at the upper edge, so it had to be _underneath_ her breast. He took another deep breath, then he moved his hand lower. His fingers grazed one of her nipples and he wasn't really surprised when he found them hard and perked underneath his touch. What surprised him was the low moan she let out when his fingers moved over her sensitive flesh. He looked up from her cleavage and at her face again, their eyes meeting instantly. She had sucked her lower lip inside her mouth, looking at him with undisguised desire. He couldn't resist the need to move his thumb over her nipple one more time, making her moan again before his hand dipped lower and finally found the key. He pulled out his hand instantly before the temptation of touching her and taking her right then and there became too much.

"There," he said, letting the door swing open for her.

His voice was low, strained with desire but he held himself back, not wanting to take advantage of her. She let out a deep breath, stumbling forward. With a sigh she grabbed her waist and guided her to her bed. When she finally lied on her sheets she looked up at him through hooded eyes.

"Don't you want to ravish me now, _pirate_?" she asked mockingly, a small smile playing on her lips.

"I would never think of it. I'm a gentleman after all."

Slowly Emma traced her fingers across her cleavage, watching with satisfaction how his eyes were glued to her every movement.

"That didn't feel like it."

With a sigh he shook his head and leaned forward, until their faces were mere inches apart. He heard her breath hitching, saw her eyes fluttering close but he just smiled crookedly.

"Another time, my love," he said tenderly, kissing her cheek. "I want you to remember every second of it."

She giggled and let her head fall back against her pillow. Not even five seconds later she was fast asleep.

He was so screwed.

He was...

_... in love with her._


End file.
